


The Los Santos Chronicles

by 3rady



Category: Fake AH crew - Fandom, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3923215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3rady/pseuds/3rady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of two rival gangs whose hatred and the chaos said hatred causes that will ultimately destroy them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Los Santos Chronicles

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a fanfic. Please leave any positive (or negative) remarks so that i know what i'm doing right and what i'm doing wrong! Depending on the feedback, I may post some more chapters that I have written!

“Guard is rounding the corner,” Ray whispered to his headset.  
“Let’s do this!” Gavin added excitedly. A muffled ffft from Ray’s rifle across the street signaled Gavin’s entrance to the bank. Mask on and loaded gun in hand, the Brit made his way through the double doors yelling, “On the floor this is stick up!” in his playfully intimidating voice. Gavin walked right up to the teller and gave the bird a smile. “’ello love, let’s have the money in the teller’s boxes eh?”  
“I’ll…I’ll give you everything you want just please don’t hurt me!” the teller squealed.  
“Oooh a scared one,” Ryan’s voice came through the mic, “those are always the best”  
“Ryan you’re a fucking psycho,” Ray added.  
“Hey, just filling the persona,”  
“Just do the job boys,” Geoff ordered.  
“That’s right love, all that cash into this here bag. Michael, we’re ready for you” Michael, responding to Gavin’s call, backed the box truck through the doorway of the bank. Ryan, in his ever so terrifying mask and face paint, hopped out and started grabbing bags from Gavin and throwing them into the back of the truck.  
“Police inbound. Eta…about two minutes,” Jack said, the blades of the chopper audible through the mic.  
“That slow? Even for Los Santos that’s pretty bad,” Michael joked from the front of the truck.  
“You got all that cash love?” Gavin, still being playful, questioned.  
“I…I got it all. Ok just leave!” the teller pleaded.  
Ryan let his creepy laugh out and, now at the teller’s side, whispered, “it’s not quite that simple.”  
“Hop in boi! Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Michael told his cohort.  
“Jack we are on the Pacific Highway headed north.” Gavin informed the pilot.  
“okie dokie then boys. Chopper team en route,” Jack replied. “Y’all good back there Geoff?”  
“I did shit like this way back in Kuwait every day!” The vet shouted over the chopper’s blades.  
“Alright boys the hook should take and we’ll be out of here.” Jack said. He flipped the lever to release the chain and hook. The hook grabbed the bar on top of the truck and Jack began to climb.  
“Chopper 3 ‘o clock,” Geoff said heavy machine gun blazing. When the police helo exploded into a fireball, the man hooted and shouted with insane joy.  
“Ryan you done in there yet?”  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m coming out now,” Ryan answered, “Jeez am I not allowed to have fun?”  
“I didn’t realize fun included dismembering civilians,” Ray retorted.  
“Hey man, sometimes you gotta kill a guy,” the masked man defended, “or, in this case, twelve.”  
“Jesus Christ man! Whatever, bikes right out back,” Ray informed.  
Ryan hopped on the back of Ray’s dirt-bike and they sped off south down the Pacific Highway.  
“Cops ahead,” Ryan warned.  
“I got it don’t worry,” Ray planted his foot and turned the bike ninety degrees and gunned it straight up the mountain just off the highway. 

The chopper, now over the Alamo Sea just north of the Grand Senora Desert, lowered and dropped the truck in the sand. Michael and Gavin hopped out and started loading the cash into the van that was placed prior to the heist. Geoff hopped out of the chopper and aided the lads. Jack, meanwhile, rigged the cargobob to blow. “the bird’s ready to go bye bye.” He reported.  
“Good, let’s get out of here,” Geoff replied.  
Gavin made for the driver’s seat but was met with a sharp elbow from Geoff. “Oh fuck no, remember last time?”  
“Hey c’mon Geoff, that wasn’t on purpose!”  
“Get in the back you mong,” Michael teased.  
Grumbling, the brit obliged. Geoff floored it onto the road, Jack detonated, and they were off.

“How was the desert?” Ryan asked when the other four made it back through the apartment door.  
“Hot. The mountains?”  
“Also hot,” Ryan winked at Ray, who immediately sparked his bong while blushing.  
“Niiiice save Ray,” Michael jested. “Alright, bevs,?”  
“Fuck yeah, pour me a scotch,” Geoff requested.  
“I’m going to hit the wine this time. I had a bit of chocolate earlier.” Gavin stated.  
“Yeah real classy Gav,” Jack chuckled.


End file.
